Page 14 of Holiday Hostage
No names were mentioned, but it was obvious they had the wrong woman. “My father will pay the ransom, but he doesn’t know you have me. You can call him. My phone is…” Where was my phone?
Surely Dad would have it tracked as soon as he realized something happened to me.
“Shut. Up.” The man stalked forward, the sound of his steps an angry tattoo of noise that rattled my teeth.
A shiver that had nothing to do with the menace in his words sent goosebumps popping out on my arms.
They’d taken all my outer clothing, leaving me in my jeans and T-shirt and socks.
I didn’t let that stop me from working out an escape plan.
Clothes were secondary to getting away from the men who would kill me the minute they discovered their arms dealer wasn’t coming.
That was why I kept playing the ransom card. “Look, Dad has money. Lots of money. I’m telling you, let me call him. You can send him an email from my account. He’s not stingy.” I didn’t mention the police. That was a sure way to get a bullet in the face.
My current guard grunted. “If I’d known you’d be this annoying, I would’ve asked for more money.”
Oh, there was more where that came from. So much more.
I’d talk until I lost my voice if it meant he’d leave the room and give me a few minutes alone.
“You know, I heard that there’s this thing where men piss and moan about women because their mothers didn’t hug them enough. You think there’s any truth to that?”
I fully expected the blow that cracked against my cheek.
It whipped my head around, my neck popping in the process.
I laughed and faced him. “Guess that means it’s true.” I tsked. “I bet she’s ashamed of you. Probably stopped sending Christmas cards and doesn’t even call you on your birthday.”
A dark, twisted face leaned into my space.
Holy hell. I’d gone too far.
The sneering face wasn’t what bothered me. No. It was the brutal coldness in the way he stared me down. “My mother’s dead. And I’m glad.”
He lifted his hand for a second slap, and I spat a glob of blood on his boot.
“Shift change.” The unfamiliar voice came the instant his hand came down.
The strike wasn’t as hard, but it fucking hurt. I forced out another laugh to cover the threat of tears. “See you later.”
His muttering echoed off the stone walls, and I let out a relieved breath that did nothing to stop the ache in my jaw.
Bastard busted my lip.
I poked at it with my tongue, wincing at the fresh sting of pain.
The sunlight I craved inched into the room, touching the rocks on the opposite wall.
That bit of light was the only way I’d seen my surroundings, and they hadn’t changed.
Same circular room with one door.
Same uncomfortable wooden chair that made my ass go numb.
One other chair was tucked against the wall opposite me, but I’d never seen anyone use it.
I pulled on the zip ties again. If I could just get some momentum, I might be able to snap them apart.
